THE CASK OF AMONTILLADO
by Edgar Allan Poe
(1847)
THE thousand injuries of Fortunato I had borne as I best could, but
when he ventured upon insult I vowed revenge. You, who so well know
the nature of my soul, will not suppose, however, that gave utterance to
a threat. At length I would be avenged; this was a point definitely,
settled --but the very definitiveness with which it was resolved
precluded the idea of risk. I must not only punish but punish with
impunity. A wrong is unredressed when retribution overtakes its
redresser. It is equally unredressed when the avenger fails to make
himself felt as such to him who has done the wrong.
It must be understood that neither by word nor deed had I given
Fortunato cause to doubt my good will. I continued, as was my in to
smile in his face, and he did not perceive that my to smile now was at
the thought of his immolation.
He had a weak point --this Fortunato --although in other regards he was
a man to be respected and even feared. He prided himself on his
connoisseurship in wine. Few Italians have the true virtuoso spirit. For
the most part their enthusiasm is adopted to suit the time and
opportunity, to practise imposture upon the British and Austrian
millionaires. In painting and gemmary, Fortunato, like his countrymen,
was a quack, but in the matter of old wines he was sincere. In this
respect I did not differ from him materially; --I was skilful in the Italian
vintages myself, and bought largely whenever I could.
It was about dusk, one evening during the supreme madness of the
carnival season, that I encountered my friend. He accosted me with
excessive warmth, for he had been drinking much. The man wore
motley. He had on a tight-fitting parti-striped dress, and his head was
surmounted by the conical cap and bells. I was so pleased to see him
that I thought I should never have done wringing his hand.
I said to him --"My dear Fortunato, you are luckily met. How
remarkably well you are looking to-day. But I have received a pipe of
what passes for Amontillado, and I have my doubts."
"How?" said he. "Amontillado, A pipe? Impossible! And in the middle
of the carnival!"
"I have my doubts," I replied; "and I was silly enough to pay the full
Amontillado price without consulting you in the matter. You were not to
be found, and I was fearful of losing a bargain."
"Amontillado!"
"I have my doubts."
"Amontillado!"
"And I must satisfy them."
"Amontillado!"
"As you are engaged, I am on my way to Luchresi. If any one has a
critical turn it is he. He will tell me --"
"Luchresi cannot tell Amontillado from Sherry."
"And yet some fools will have it that his taste is a match for your own.
"Come, let us go."
"Whither?"
"To your vaults."

"My friend, no; I will not impose upon your good nature. I perceive you
have an engagement. Luchresi--"
"I have no engagement; --come."
"My friend, no. It is not the engagement, but the severe cold with which
I perceive you are afflicted. The vaults are insufferably damp. They are
encrusted with nitre."
"Let us go, nevertheless. The cold is merely nothing. Amontillado! You
have been imposed upon. And as for Luchresi, he cannot distinguish
Sherry from Amontillado."
Thus speaking, Fortunato possessed himself of my arm; and putting on a
mask of black silk and drawing a roquelaire closely about my person, I
suffered him to hurry me to my palazzo.
There were no attendants at home; they had absconded to make merry in
honour of the time. I had told them that I should not return until the
morning, and had given them explicit orders not to stir from the house.
These orders were sufficient, I well knew, to insure their immediate
disappearance, one and all, as soon as my back was turned.
I took from their sconces two flambeaux, and giving one to Fortunato,
bowed him through several suites of rooms to the archway that led into
the vaults. I passed down a long and winding staircase, requesting him
to be cautious as he followed. We came at length to the foot of the
descent, and stood together upon the damp ground of the catacombs of
the Montresors.
The gait of my friend was unsteady, and the bells upon his cap jingled as
he strode.
"The pipe," he said.
"It is farther on," said I; "but observe the white web-work which gleams
from these cavern walls."
He turned towards me, and looked into my eves with two filmy orbs that
distilled the rheum of intoxication.
"Nitre?" he asked, at length.
"Nitre," I replied. "How long have you had that cough?"
"Ugh! ugh! ugh! --ugh! ugh! ugh! --ugh! ugh! ugh! --ugh! ugh! ugh!
--ugh! ugh! ugh!"
My poor friend found it impossible to reply for many minutes.
"It is nothing," he said, at last.
"Come," I said, with decision, "we will go back; your health is precious.
You are rich, respected, admired, beloved; you are happy, as once I was.
You are a man to be missed. For me it is no matter. We will go back; you
will be ill, and I cannot be responsible. Besides, there is Luchresi --"
"Enough," he said; "the cough's a mere nothing; it will not kill me. I
shall not die of a cough."
"True --true," I replied; "and, indeed, I had no intention of alarming you
unnecessarily --but you should use all proper caution. A draught of this
Medoc will defend us from the damps.
Here I knocked off the neck of a bottle which I drew from a long row of
its fellows that lay upon the mould.
"Drink," I said, presenting him the wine. bones. Come, we will go back ere it is too late. Your cough --"

He raised it to his lips with a leer. He paused and nodded to me "It is nothing," he said; "let us go on. But first, another draught of the
familiarly, while his bells jingled. Medoc."

"I drink," he said, "to the buried that repose around us." I broke and reached him a flagon of De Grave. He emptied it at a breath.
His eyes flashed with a fierce light. He laughed and threw the bottle
"And I to your long life." upwards with a gesticulation I did not understand.

He again took my arm, and we proceeded. I looked at him in surprise. He repeated the movement --a grotesque
one.
"These vaults," he said, "are extensive."
"You do not comprehend?" he said.
"The Montresors," I replied, "were a great and numerous family."
"Not I," I replied.
"I forget your arms."
"Then you are not of the brotherhood."
"A huge human foot d'or, in a field azure; the foot crushes a serpent
rampant whose fangs are imbedded in the heel." "How?"

"And the motto?" "You are not of the masons."

"Nemo me impune lacessit." "Yes, yes," I said; "yes, yes."

"Good!" he said. "You? Impossible! A mason?"

The wine sparkled in his eyes and the bells jingled. My own fancy grew "A mason," I replied.
warm with the Medoc. We had passed through long walls of piled
skeletons, with casks and puncheons intermingling, into the inmost "A sign," he said, "a sign."
recesses of the catacombs. I paused again, and this time I made bold to
seize Fortunato by an arm above the elbow. "It is this," I answered, producing from beneath the folds of my
roquelaire a trowel.
"The nitre!" I said; "see, it increases. It hangs like moss upon the vaults.
We are below the river's bed. The drops of moisture trickle among the "You jest," he exclaimed, recoiling a few paces. "But let us proceed to
the Amontillado."
"Be it so," I said, replacing the tool beneath the cloak and again offering
him my arm. He leaned upon it heavily. We continued our route in
search of the Amontillado. We passed through a range of low arches,
descended, passed on, and descending again, arrived at a deep crypt, in
which the foulness of the air caused our flambeaux rather to glow than
flame.
At the most remote end of the crypt there appeared another less
spacious. Its walls had been lined with human remains, piled to the vault
overhead, in the fashion of the great catacombs of Paris. Three sides of
this interior crypt were still ornamented in this manner. From the fourth
side the bones had been thrown down, and lay promiscuously upon the
earth, forming at one point a mound of some size. Within the wall thus
exposed by the displacing of the bones, we perceived a still interior
crypt or recess, in depth about four feet, in width three, in height six or
seven. It seemed to have been constructed for no especial use within
itself, but formed merely the interval between two of the colossal
supports of the roof of the catacombs, and was backed by one of their
circumscribing walls of solid granite.
It was in vain that Fortunato, uplifting his dull torch, endeavoured to pry
into the depth of the recess. Its termination the feeble light did not
enable us to see.
"Proceed," I said; "herein is the Amontillado. As for Luchresi --"
"He is an ignoramus," interrupted my friend, as he stepped unsteadily
forward, while I followed immediately at his heels. In niche, and finding
an instant he had reached the extremity of the niche, and finding his
progress arrested by the rock, stood stupidly bewildered. A moment
more and I had fettered him to the granite. In its surface were two iron
staples, distant from each other about two feet, horizontally. From one
of these depended a short chain, from the other a padlock. Throwing the
links about his waist, it was but the work of a few seconds to secure it.
He was too much astounded to resist. Withdrawing the key I stepped
back from the recess.
"Pass your hand," I said, "over the wall; you cannot help feeling the
nitre. Indeed, it is very damp. Once more let me implore you to return.
No? Then I must positively leave you. But I must first render you all the
little attentions in my power."
"The Amontillado!" ejaculated my friend, not yet recovered from his
astonishment.
"True," I replied; "the Amontillado."
As I said these words I busied myself among the pile of bones of which
I have before spoken. Throwing them aside, I soon uncovered a quantity
of building stone and mortar. With these materials and with the aid of
my trowel, I began vigorously to wall up the entrance of the niche.
I had scarcely laid the first tier of the masonry when I discovered that
the intoxication of Fortunato had in a great measure worn off. The
earliest indication I had of this was a low moaning cry from the depth of
the recess. It was not the cry of a drunken man. There was then a long
and obstinate silence. I laid the second tier, and the third, and the fourth;
and then I heard the furious vibrations of the chain. The noise lasted for
several minutes, during which, that I might hearken to it with the more
satisfaction, I ceased my labours and sat down upon the bones. When at
last the clanking subsided, I resumed the trowel, and finished without
interruption the fifth, the sixth, and the seventh tier. The wall was now
nearly upon a level with my breast. I again paused, and holding the
flambeaux over the mason-work, threw a few feeble rays upon the
figure within.
A succession of loud and shrill screams, bursting suddenly from the
throat of the chained form, seemed to thrust me violently back. For a
brief moment I hesitated, I trembled. Unsheathing my rapier, I began to
grope with it about the recess; but the thought of an instant reassured
me. I placed my hand upon the solid fabric of the catacombs, and felt
satisfied. I reapproached the wall; I replied to the yells of him who
clamoured. I re-echoed, I aided, I surpassed them in volume and in
strength. I did this, and the clamourer grew still.
It was now midnight, and my task was drawing to a close. I had
completed the eighth, the ninth and the tenth tier. I had finished a
portion of the last and the eleventh; there remained but a single stone to
be fitted and plastered in. I struggled with its weight; I placed it partially
in its destined position. But now there came from out the niche a low
laugh that erected the hairs upon my head. It was succeeded by a sad
voice, which I had difficulty in recognizing as that of the noble
Fortunato. The voice said--
"Fortunato!"
No answer. I called again --
"Fortunato!"
No answer still. I thrust a torch through the remaining aperture and let it
fall within. There came forth in return only a jingling of the bells. My
heart grew sick; it was the dampness of the catacombs that made it so. I
hastened to make an end of my labour. I forced the last stone into its
position; I plastered it up. Against the new masonry I re-erected the old
rampart of bones. For the half of a century no mortal has disturbed
them. In pace requiescat!

"Ha! ha! ha! --he! he! he! --a very good joke, indeed --an excellent jest.
We will have many a rich laugh about it at the palazzo --he! he! he!
--over our wine --he! he! he!"

"The Amontillado!" I said.

"He! he! he! --he! he! he! --yes, the Amontillado. But is it not getting
late? Will not they be awaiting us at the palazzo, the Lady Fortunato and
the rest? Let us be gone."

"Yes," I said, "let us be gone."

"For the love of God, Montresor!"

"Yes," I said, "for the love of God!"

But to these words I hearkened in vain for a reply. I grew impatient. I

called aloud --